One popular trope in Hindi cinema is that of a ‘good cop’. He regularly performs swashbuckling tricks, takes the rowdies to task and doles out justice. Amitabh Bachchan played many of these angry cop roles in the 1970s. In fact, his angry young man image was largely a creation of these films. The cop character was angered by wrongdoings of various kinds but remained oblivious to caste-based injustice.
What has changed, I wonder? Look at Ajay Devgn’s cop character in the Singham films or Salman Khan’s in Dabangg . Caste issues don’t seem to rattle our filmmakers in Mumbai.
Taking caste head on
In such a scenario, Ayushmann Khurrana’s lead character in Article 15 comes as a welcome change. I don’t remember the last time a policeman took caste head on in Hindi cinema. There are very few instances of mainstream Hindi cinema exposing caste-based oppression so eloquently with nuance.
Also read — ‘Article 15’ review: Wild, wild heartland
A cop walking over a heap of garbage, entering the swamp with his subordinates, visuals of manual scavenging on screen — it is rare to encounter these moments in Hindi films.
The way director Anubhav Sinha deals with caste issues is different from the approach of, say, Pa. Ranjith, and I think both can coexist. Hindi cinema is riddled with many ills. It can’t look beyond the urban, dishes out films that look like soap operas and is lacking in social content. On the other hand, when a Hindi film deals with social issues and lacks a big mainstream lead actor, it is often dismissed as ‘art house’.
These distinctions are facile. Why can’t these so-called ‘commercial’ films also glimpse the times we live in? Why do we have to wait for a Fandry or a Court (both non-Hindi films) to give us the wake-up call?
Nobody can deny the reach of mainstream Hindi cinema and its desired impact. Thus, it becomes imperative to widely discuss a film such as Article 15 , which uses the conventions of the mainstream to discuss the marginal and pushes these conversations into spaces where they matter the most.
Set in rural Uttar Pradesh, Article 15 takes a clear position on caste-based crimes, untouchability and other associated social ostracisation practices that keep Dalits invisible and crush all their attempts at mobilising themselves and taking on the powers that be.
The Ambedkar reference
The film opens with a song which vocalises the wide chasm that exists. Immediately thereafter appears a familiar statue of B.R. Ambedkar in his trademark blue coat with his hand raised and holding a copy of the Constitution. Some might dismiss this as a tokenistic measure, but I believe it is of great significance. The song and the statue create an iconography that mere words cannot capture.
I still remember the concluding scenes from Pa. Ranjith’s Kaala and his effective use of the colour blue that takes over the screen. It is rife with suggestions and cinema, after all, is an image-based medium. The events depicted in such films are common knowledge, but they attain a renewed vigour on screen. This is where cinema fulfils its role as a watch-keeper in democracy.
In Article 15 , the ‘good cop’ breaks barriers and leads by example. He is not merely sympathetic but also reminds us that any form of discrimination is anti-constitutional. At the same time, he is acutely aware of his own privilege and upbringing. He finds his own ignorance troubling. Lest we forget, a vulnerable male lead is not a Hindi cinema favourite. In these times of increasing jingoism, every attempt such as Article 15 inspires hope, because cinema must provoke us to think and act.
The writer teaches literary & cultural studies at FLAME University, Pune
